2014
by victoriaely
Summary: They had built an empire that stretched across the galaxy and were smarter and stronger than ever, but that didn't make them better.
1. New World

The white, artificial light was tiring. Of course, after twenty hours of work, few things would be relaxing. Not even the big, comfortable bed in his quarters two levels down didn't seem as appealing as it normally would. Carson closed his eyes, rubbing them with his hands. There were so many things he needed to do.

A loud beep made him open his eyes and sigh. He mentally activated the comm., waiting for the person on the other side to say something. After a few moments of silence, he said, "Aye, what is it?"

"Were you sleeping?" A soft woman's voice asked, sounding mildly disapproving.

"No, what is it Rebecca?"

"I wanted to ask you if you wanted me to prepare the next meeting… sir," came the response.

"Aye, sure, but don't expect any help from me." Carson placed his hands on the cold surface of his desk and rested his head on them.

He really needed to sleep, but there were at least three chancellors that demanded audiences, three chiefs of projects that had announced unbelievable discoveries and a few other persons with dubious positions that had asked for 'five minutes, just five minutes'. He didn't even know what this next meeting was about.

A solid object impacted with his desk and his head shot up, trying to stop the buzzing. Rebecca was standing in front of his desk, amused smile on her lips, right hand resting near the mug of coffee that was now on his desk. "You're going to need this," she said and proceeded to the large conference table in the middle of Carson's spacious office.

Carson rose from his chair, taking the coffee. If he were on Atlantis, he'd go to one of the windows overlooking the ocean to clear his mind. But here, in his own building, on his own planet, he didn't have windows. The specialists had announced that the little rectangular holes in the walls, covered with the opaque dark ketronim were safer for the humans inside. There was no light from outside and as far as Carson was concerned, there was no outside. So Carson took his place at the table, skimming the reports placed in front of him by his young, dark-haired assistant.

"You miss them, don't you?" Rebecca asked from his right.

"Who?" Carson asked without looking at her.

"The windows."

Carson closed his eyes, smiling. "When we got to Atlantis, I thought there was nowhere else I could go, that I couldn't feel more homesick." He paused for a few moments, remembering. "Now I feel homesick for two homes, and I feel like… like I wasn't a kid. Like it's another life, something I've seen in some movie... a long time ago." Carson opened his eyes and saw Rebecca preparing drinks for his guests. Of course she didn't care and was just courteous.

"I thought we didn't have problems with childhood diseases," Carson said, returning his attention to the report in front of him.

"No, but the physiology of the newest members of the Empire is quite different. We need to make some adjustments to the drugs we have developed." She moved away from the table, checking if everything was in place.

Seeing her frown, Carson waved his right hand, "No need to worry, I'm sure everything's alright."

She kept studying the table until she realized what was missing, went outside and a few moments later returned with a small box. She placed it on the table in front of one of the little name cards and smiled contently. "It's doctor Ankeht's anniversary today, and you have bought him that."

"Of course I have." Carson closed his eyes. Sometimes he wondered why these people needed him. He could retire somewhere nice and… well, nice, and leave the ruling to Elizabeth, John and Rodney.

"You should request someone from Atlantis to come and activate some of the Ancestor's devices."

Ah, yes: the gene. That's why he wasn't retiring. As smart as these people were, living in the middle ages under the threat of the wraith for so many generations meant they'd need time to catch up. They weren't smart enough to have the ideas, just to carry someone else's. Carson had managed to give everyone in Atlantis the gene, but not the others. There were some minor DNA differences that required a new gene therapy, and considering the number or capable and willing Atlanteans, he hadn't developed it.

"I will," he said, nodding absently.

"I'll remind you later. Oh, doctor McKay requested an audience."

Carson raised an eyebrow. "Did he, now?"

"I presume that's not what he said, but his assistant told me that…" Rebecca trailed off, staring to her right. She probably didn't understand anything of their wacky interactions.

"There was a time when we met… everyday, talked face to face, not through our assistants," he explained, sadness washing over him.

"You'll get the chance to do it tomorrow; after you finish this meeting you go and sleep and then you meet doctor McKay."

Carson smiled, handing her his empty coffee mug. "Thank you, will you show the guests in when they arrive?"

"Of course, sir."


	2. Peace is War

Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. No money is being made from this work. No copyright infringement is intended.

AN: This fic was written before 'Sunday' and doesn't include any of the information/events described there. Take it as an AU, or like things got fixed until this begins :)  
Chapter Title inspired by George Orwell's 1984

- -- - -- -

Rodney entered like a storm into his office, but stopped abruptly after a couple of meters. "This is new. Redecorated? Broke into the adjacent rooms?"

"No, Rodney, moved a couple of floors up," Carson answered, exasperated.

"Not that it makes any difference," Rodney remarked dryly, gesturing towards one of the pseudo-windows. "But I haven't come all this way to comment on your decorating skills. I need something from you."

"Ever the charmer. Take a seat." Carson gestured towards one of the chairs at the table, and Rodney quickly sat down.

"So, I need PX-671," Rodney stated, looking at him.

"PX… "

"A small planet, nothing big, I assure you," Rodney said, smiling and trying to hide his nervousness.

Carson looked at him, hoping to see past the mask of anxiousness. It was always obvious when Rodney was lying, whether it was about a bar of chocolate or a bomb ready to explode. The problem was Carson couldn't ever tell the difference between them.

Activating the comm., he said, "Rebecca, will you please give me the file on PX…"

"671," Rodney supplied, voice lower than moments before and definitely less cheerful.

"So, Rodney, what do you need it for?" Carson asked, looking at his friend.

"Um… a lab we should set up there and -"

Rebecca entered the office and Rodney stopped, staring at her. Slightly embarrassed by his reaction, Carson thanked his assistant and she left.

"I thought you had a thing for blondes," Carson said amused, as he opened the file that Rebecca had handed him.

"I do, but she's… I bet she's a great lover. She is, isn't she?"

Carson looked up from the file, annoyed by Rodney's comment. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"You're not… you and her…" Rodney looked at him with an incredulous look on his face. "You're not!" The look turned into Rodney's patented 'you're stupid' look.

Carson looked back at the file, deciding Rodney's remark wasn't worth commenting on and realised that Rodney's lie was closer to the exploding bomb than the chocolate bar. The planet Rodney wanted was unique, as in it was the only place where one of the plants they needed for drug-making could be grown. He wasn't sure he would like the reason why Rodney needed that particular planet, but he had to ask.

"Why do you want this planet?" Carson asked dryly.

"We need it for our research," Rodney answered, just as dryly. "There are certain chemical reactions that are sped up considerably by a compound in its atmosphere and we need this to be done fast. And before you ask, we need the entire planet."

"Can't you reproduce the conditions in the lab?" Carson asked, softening a bit.

"You could make one of those green houses, grow your plants there," Rodney said, avoiding the question.

"No, Rodney, I can't! You have labs that can duplicate these atmospheric conditions, but I can't recreate a whole bio system."

"I can't make something that big!"

"How big should it be?" Carson asked, narrowing his eyes and studying Rodney. "You've got the largest rooms in that ministry of yours," Carson said, upset.

"Not that big," Rodney answered, stressing each word. He was looking straight into Carson's eyes, as if trying to explain everything by looking at him.

"What do you need it for? No experiment requires something _that big_." Carson stood and moved closer to Rodney. The man moved back in the chair a bit and lowered his gaze. "You already experimented with it, didn't you? You know that it works, and you need a place to set it up." Carson bowed, bringing himself at eye level with Rodney. "The only thing you could be making that you wouldn't tell me about is a weapon. You're making another weapon, aren't you?"

"It's not… well… it's not a weapon per se…" Rodney stuttered, getting up from his chair and moving a few steps away. "We're doing… preparing for… you know… defense."

"Oh, I know. Of course. Defense. Tell me now, Rodney, who are we defending ourselves from?"

Rodney opened his mouth and closed it without saying anything. This wasn't the first time they discussed this and it wasn't the first time Rodney didn't have an answer for this question.

"The Wraith can't attack us, because of the energy fields that protect our planets. I think you remember that one, since you invented them."

Rodney nodded, fidgeting nervously.

"There is no other civilization as evolved as we are. If I remember well, you said it would take the others at least three generations to catch up, if we stopped where we are now."

Rodney nodded again.

"Who do we need to protect ourselves against?"

Rodney looked around for a bit, as if the answer was written on the white walls, then said, "If you won't accept… Sheppard would get it."

"What's the point in doing bombs if we don't have who to protect with them? If people are sick, they die."

Rodney looked like he wanted to get out as soon as possible and didn't hear one word he was saying.

"Tell me, do people make wars if they don't have them? Are we going to discover a new enemy when your bombs are finished and there's no one to test them on?"

Rodney sat up and headed for the door, not looking at him. When he was halfway out, he said, "I'll get your answer at the meeting Sunday."

Carson sighed, going back to his desk. Ever since leaving Atlantis, his arguments with Rodney had gotten worse. Rodney got quieter, he got angrier and nothing got fixed. He wouldn't change his mind and Sheppard would give orders, pull strings and get the planet for Rodney's needs – for Rodney's newest bomb.

Opening his laptop, Carson brought up the database interface and started looking for a planet where he could move his medicinal crop.


	3. Weak As I Am

AN: Title inspired by "Weak" by Skunk Anansie.

Rodney was too captured by the hum of the hoverer to look out the window. He knew he wouldn't see much, anyway. There were a few people walking on the streets, most of them reading something on their PDA-look-alikes.

The hoverer was far more interesting. When Radek first came with the idea of creating a car that would hover, he thought the man was crazy. Now, after using it every week when coming to the staff meeting in the capital, he thought it was brilliant. The one-passenger hoverer he was in was as comfortable as a means of transportation could get.

Most of the things they have created over the past few years since the Empire came into existence were brilliant. They had managed to create the best government system since the Ancients left the galaxy, peacefully ruling over hundredths of planets. It went faster than any of them expected, quickly growing from three planets to twenty, then fifty and so on. He could still remember the day when they decided to move from Atlantis, each on his own planet, in his own ministry.

After about ten minutes, they reached the destination: the Ministry of Commerce and Foreign Affairs. This was Elizabeth's Ministry and the white, elegant building suited her perfectly. It was complicated, with strange patterns in the walls, with inscriptions and letters. She had explained once that it had something from every planet that was part of the Empire.

Rodney walked along familiar corridors to the conference room where they met each week. Elizabeth, John, Carson and he were the four ministers that ruled the Empire. Sometimes, they'd bring some of their people when they wanted to present something, and usually there were ten people at most.

Rodney took his seat at the round table, noticing that it was only the four of them. They all wore their 'elegant' suits, the grey ones, with the little colored rectangles on their right shoulders that denoted their specialty and it made the meeting more official.

Elizabeth was calm, smiling as she looked over a piece of paper. John was trying to look at the paper, but couldn't find an excuse to move closer, so he tried stretching as much as possible to peek at Elizabeth's source of amusement. Carson on the other hand was looking straight ahead, lips in a thin line and eyes narrowed.

"Am I late?" Rodney asked as Elizabeth looked up and acknowledged him.

"Not really, please sit down," she answered, pressing a button on a little remote she had on her right.

A young man came in and handed each of them a single sheet of paper.

"This is the list of planets that have applied this month and at the bottom of the page, you'll find my recommendations," Elizabeth stated.

Rodney skimmed the first list and checked the second one to see if his proposal had been accepted. There was only one planet that he found interesting, because it had an impressive network of naquadah mines that he could find very useful. As for the other planets, he didn't even know where they were or what was so great about them.

Most of the time, the governors of those planets knew what the Empire needed and tried to provide it. Several times, planets bought their admission by 'donating' things previously bought specifically for this purpose. No one ever said anything about it, and if it was good for the Empire, they weren't going to complain. From time to time, a planet would request admission because its citizens needed it – as if there was a planet in the galaxy outside the Empire that didn't need it. None of them ever got accepted.

"I'm okay with it," Rodney stated, placing the paper back on the table.

"Me too," John added.

There was a short pause, all of them turning to Carson. He was staring at the paper, probably unhappy about something, but considering his mood when the meeting had started, it was hard to say if the list helped with that in any way.

"Carson?" Elizabeth asked.

"Did you get my recommendation?" he asked, looking at her.

"Yes," Elizabeth answered, nodding.

"Then you know I'm not happy about this. Out of fifteen planets, I asked for one. I thought it was reasonable enough. I don't see it on the ones that were accepted, so I'm not okay with the list." There was something impersonal, cold about the way he said that.

"Carson…" Elizabeth started, not sure what to say to get things back to some sort of normality. "We have to consider the welfare of the-"

"I know that, Elizabeth. I know the Empire has been very supportive with my research, you keep reminding me that, but allow me to remind you that we're not God. The Empire is not God. We don't have the right to decide who lives or who dies, and most of the people on that planet will die." Every time something like this happened and Carson wanted to do an act of charity, they assumed it was his way of trying to make up for everything that he had done wrong, ever since Hoff, and they waited until he was calm enough to let it go.

Seeing Carson, the way he looked at them, half angrily, half pleadingly, the way he twisted his hands nervously, Rodney felt like there was more to it this time.

"We can't make such decisions based on our emotions," Elizabeth said, impatient.

"It's in our power to save them. And it doesn't mean someone else will have to suffer, it's just that others will have a wee bit less. There are less than a million people on that -"

"No!" Rodney hadn't heard Elizabeth raise her voice in a long time, and he wasn't sure if it was because she was angry at Carson for questioning her decision or herself for not being able to find a better reason that would convince him. "We are not deciding for ourselves here, Carson. It's not that you'll have a smaller food ration. This is for the welfare of the Empire."

John cleared his throat, and frowned. "We've talked about this before."

"Aye, and I've let you convince me. But it always felt wrong, just as it does now."

"You're weak, Carson," John said, stopping as soon as he realized that the words were spoken out loud. "I mean, you're… softer than… you need to…"

"Buck up, Colonel?" Rodney never imagined Carson capable of putting so much sarcasm in three words, and John looked at him, hurt and angry and ashamed of himself. "Weak as I am, I know I'm doing the right thing in supporting those people. When I didn't want to be one of the ministers, you said I needed to, that my opinion was valued and that I could… what was it that you said?... contribute." Carson looked at each one of them, studying, trying to see beyond the unspoken words. "What have I contributed with? What am I expected to contribute with from now on?" Carson rose slowly from the table, leaving the paper not signed. "I'd like to think that there's more to me being here than the memories of Atlantis, but I think I'd be wrong." He walked to the door, slowly but determinedly.

Carson wasn't one of those people that held a grudge, but this felt like something deeper, like something that had been troubling him for a while and now had the opportunity to explode.

Rodney rose and caught up with Carson on the corridor. "It's not like we can't talk about it. You shouldn't have walked out like that," he said, trying to adjust his pace to the Scot's.

"Aye, because we all know how Elizabeth would have agreed to it."

"It's a vote. Maybe John and I would have voted for you." The truth was they would have, if the gain was worth angering Elizabeth. At the moment, there were a few things that Rodney would have found worth it.

"You would have? Really?" Carson stopped and turned a bit, looking at him. "And why would you do that?"

Rodney wasn't sure if Carson was honestly asking that or if it was a remainder of the earlier sarcasm. He decided to go with the truth, stating it as evenly as he could, "You know, eye for an eye, planet for a planet."

Carson looked at him disbelievingly, "You want the planet we talked about and you'll agree to the acceptance of this one?"

Rodney nodded, expecting Carson to agree. There was a look of sadness on his friend's face, mixed with disappointment, and after a brief shake of the head, Carson looked away from him and walked towards the exit.

"You're going to lose them both this way, Carson!" The man was just a few meters in front of him, so he must have heard him. He didn't say anything, though, so Rodney walked towards him. "This has nothing to do with… morality. You shouldn't look at things that way. All's fair in war."

Carson spun around, surprising Rodney. "We're not at war, Rodney. Get your Colonel to sign the order, if you think that's the right thing to do."

"This isn't about right," Rodney said, regretting that he had come after Carson. There was no way he was going to convince a stubborn Scot to do something through a discussion.

"No, it isn't. It's about the welfare of the Empire." Carson waved his right hand in a 'do what you wish' gesture. "Long live the Empire," he added sarcastically before walking away again.

This time, Rodney didn't follow. He returned to the conference room, determined to do what needed to be done. And at the moment, he needed that planet and its unique conditions. Carson would have to move on without it.


	4. Ignorance is Strength

The door to his office opened, but Carson didn't bother to look up. It could only be Rebecca and she'd seen him like that before. Well… almost.

"What is that, sir?" she asked, looking at the glass of Scotch.

"It's like…wine, only the taste is different and you get drunk a lot faster."

She looked at him awkwardly, sighing emphatically. "You're not going to fix anything this way."

"I wasn't planning on getting drunk," he said, looking at the amber liquid. "When I was young, my dad used to drink a bit of Scotch, each Sunday. I didn't understand it then, but this was how he spoiled himself. He sat in the big armchair, with all of us playing outside, and drank in peace, thinking about how things went and what he wanted to do."

"So this is for meditation…" she started, looking at the liquid a bit less disapprovingly.

"Aye, you could say that," he said, smiling fondly at the returning memories.

"Perhaps you should get out of the meditation and look at these papers," she said, handing him a few reports. "They're getting close to their deadlines, and I thought…"

He took the papers and looked at each one briefly. They were minor things, requisition forms, project proposals. "Did anything come from the Ministry of Defense?" he asked when he was done.

"Yes, there was one, but I'm waiting for a confirmation, because it said you don't have control of 671 anymore," she answered.

"It was correct. As soon as you get it back, I want it so I can sign it and get this over with." His voice was a bit harsher than he had meant, but remembering his earlier argument with Rodney, he couldn't help it.

Rebecca started to walk towards the door, but halfway there, she stopped. Slowly turning around, she said, "This is probably none of my business, but I think you shouldn't do this."

"Is that so?" She deserved every bit of sarcasm now.

"There are things you don't know… maybe you should see things from a wider perspective." She seemed to be afraid to speak her mind fully.

"Enlighten me, why shouldn't I make my own decisions?"

"It's not that, sir, you… there are people who think you shouldn't be in this position." Carson raised an eyebrow to that statement, looking at her suspiciously. "There are people who think the way you run things is… things are happening and…"

"Say it, or walk out that door and leave me be!" He was getting impatient and seeing Rebecca stutter was not comforting in any way.

"They want you gone, and not on a holiday, sir." She said the words quickly and stopped, afraid.

"That's very poetic, but I don't -"

"When they'll finish the gene therapy for themselves, they'll get rid of you, and probably your friends as well."

Carson frowned, realizing how serious Rebecca was. He didn't doubt what she said, or better said, that she believed what she said, but how could something like that have developed?

"What sort of people are you talking about? How could this… thing happen?" He wanted to think of this as a joke, but there was something nagging at him, telling him he'd better listen.

"People with power." Rebecca looked at him with compassion, and he found it very unnerving. "You trust people, and from time to time, it's the wrong people. There's talk about a revolution."

"A revolution? We're not some tyrants that want to… Am I a tyrant?"

"No, but people only know that you're one of the four ministers, sitting in your big building and doing what you want. They don't know what's happening and -"

"What people are you talking about now?" Carson asked, confused.

She sat in one of the chairs and explained, "The common people feel they are being… controlled, by you and the other ministers, and you know there are always people who want to be in charge. The only position where… the ministers are the only ones who can decide anything. Some of them see this as an opportunity."

"And where do you stand in all this? How come you know this and I had no clue?"

She smiled bitterly. "When one of the doctors yelled at you, you waited for him to finish without saying a word. After the meeting was over, you asked me if he had personal problems. You wouldn't see it if it walked through that door."

Carson frowned. "Are you saying I'm… what are you saying?"

"You've ignored all the signs. If you want to stand a chance when this revolution unfolds, you'd better start looking around you and start making plans."

"Plans? What plans can I make? How can I know anything?"

She looked down, shaking her head. "I would have told you more, if I knew. But I don't. They have this network, a -"

"Like computers network?" Carson asked, finally stepping on familiar grounds.

"Yes, of course, but you know nothing about those."

"No, I don't, but Rodney knows everything," he announced triumphantly.

"He just went over your decision and ordered against your recommendation. What do you expect of him?"

"Quite a lot, actually." Retrieving his laptop from the desk, he continued, "Rodney and I have been through a lot. You probably wouldn't believe half of the things I could tell you about. But trust me, when it comes to a crisis, he's a different man."

"If… could you sign something before you go," Rebecca asked, looking pleadingly at him.

"Sure, what?"

She handed him a piece of paper. "If the revolution comes, I'd rather not be here," she admitted, bowing her head.

Carson signed her pass accept for Atlantis and wondered if she would have said a thing if she wasn't afraid for her own safety. He got into one of the black ministry hoverers and asked the driver to take him to the stargate.


End file.
